


Because I Said I Would

by Capucine



Series: Because [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Gen, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: Jason said if Tim ever needed him, to call. He was just surprised Tim did.





	Because I Said I Would

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to Because I'm Not. All references to rape in this story are non-graphic.

It was a call he didn’t expect.

He was in the middle of tossing and turning in the summer heat, debating whether or not he should turn on the air conditioner and muffle the surrounding sounds, when his phone rang.

It was bizarre, because there was nothing he should be called for. He was in between operations, and while something could always go down, for the most part, the heat and the lock ups of several key villains had kept things quiet on the street.

“Jimmy, I said to--” he started, certain it was one of his men, until the voice started with a shaking, 

“Jason?”

He was wide awake now, and even the sweltering heat seemed to disappear a little. It couldn’t be the Replacement—well, Tim, could it? 

It was.

“Jason, is—are you there?” There was a certain desperation in his tone, and Jason could hear the way that his breaths were shallow and soft.

“Uh, yeah,” Jason said eloquently, and then abruptly remembered why Tim had his number. His mind shifted into mission mode, and he demanded, “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

Tim stuttered, a hitched breath noise instead of words, and he said, like he was admitting some cardinal sin, “I’m not in costume.”

“Again, where are you?” Jason demanded. He didn’t want to skirt around words and shit, he wanted to stop whatever was happening. He’d promised. And after the hell he’d wrought and that Bruce had given him in return for giving the scumbags what they deserved, it was not as if he could back down.

“I’m—I’m at a party. Well, sort of--”

 _”Where?”_ Jason breathed out, trying not to let the exasperation color his words. He understood that Tim was clearly shaken, but he couldn’t do anything if he didn’t know where to go.

“The-the Halls’ house. It’s—I’m in the bathroom. I’m sorry--”

“Stop apologizing and give me an address, it’s okay,” Jason said, and the next thing Tim said startled him a little.

“I-I don’t know.”

His words sounded a little funny. Still with some panic, and his voice was very small and soft. Somehow, Jason could imagine he was curled up small and next to the toilet or something.

“Can you look out the window?” Jason tried, trying to see if he could activate the tracker in the phone. It’d been months, and he hadn’t really even seen Robin on patrol, and definitely hadn’t seen Tim in person. 

“Y-yeah, I can,” Tim murmured, and Jason thought he could hear him shifting. Then, he got the answer, “There’s a pool. And a really big swingset.”

Well, that only narrowed it down to hundreds of houses in Gotham. Jason refrained from sighing, then mentally cheered when his tracker activated. The address was clear—a well-to-do suburb, probably the sort of place people bitched about the length of their neighbors’ lawns.

Jason told Tim, “I’m coming, okay? You just stay right where you are.”

“Okay,” Tim breathed, his voice soft enough that Jason almost missed it.

He hopped on his motorcycle, dressed in civvies. If Tim wasn’t in costume, then he shouldn’t be either. Obviously.

The place was exactly as he imagined it: cookie cutter box house with charming paint and a front garden. Furthermore, though, it was clear that there were people drinking on the front porch, and one of them gave him a jaunty wave, as if he’d come to join the party.

They all looked to be more his age, he realized, not Tim’s.

Most of them were fairly drunk, giggly and handsy. Some were attempting to play a game on a console. Some were having nachos by the counter. It was a mess, but not really like in the movies always portrayed it to be. People were mostly chill.

It still sent prickles up Jason’s spine to see this much drunkenness. He wasn’t a fan, to say the least.

“Bathroom,” he said to a woman lounging on the couch. She pointed towards the stairs.

He nodded, and went up them. A couple of people cleared out of his way, as if sensing that he was this far from fighting people, should they give him a reason.

A woman turned away from the door when she saw him approach, giving him a sort of uneasy smile. “It’s occupied.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason replied, as if challenging her to ask why the hell he’d know who was in there and why he cared.

She laughed and moved on.

She wasn’t drunk. Jason could tell.

He tapped on the door, saying, “Tim. Open up.”

There was the sound of shuffling inside, and since there wasn’t a ‘what the hell man, I’m not Tim’, Jason felt safe to assume he was in there. 

“Tim. Come on, it’s Jason.”

The door clicked unlocked, opening up slowly and unsteadily as Tim eyed the outside. “Oh,” he said as he blinked, seemingly relieved.

His shoulders sagged and he swayed.

He wasn’t drunk either.

Jason very carefully and gently grabbed his arm, saying, “Come on, we’re getting you home.”

Tim promptly stumbled forward, and it was only Jason’s quick actions that saved him from face-planting.

At that point, Jason almost lifted him, sort of walking him down the stairs. Tim was trembling, feebly gripping his sleeve.

“Hey, is the little man doing okay?” one of the dudes by the door called, beer in hand. He looked legit concerned, like he might put down said beer and come over.

Well, Jason had it in hand, thank you.

“No, he is not. We’re leaving,” Jason stated. He could feel Tim trying to stand up straight, appear to be all right, but whatever he was on made that near impossible. Which said a lot about it, considering his training.

They got out the door without being stopped; Jason wasn’t surprised.

He got Tim in front of him on the motorcycle, relieved to find he was short enough, and took them a distance away to a park, sitting him on a bench.

The whole time, Tim was shaking like he’d been left at the Arctic with only a jacket. His eyes wouldn’t meet Jason’s, and he seemed on the verge of tears.

“Okay, what’d they give you?” Jason asked, trying and failing to see if Tim’s pupils were blown.

“I don’t know,” Tim shivered, “I didn’t even drink a-a-a-”

“Alcohol, gotcha,” Jason finished for him. He wasn’t surprised, again. Tim was a bit of a rules follower. “So why were you even at this party?”

Tim seemed confused about this for a moment himself, before saying, “M-my college.”

“Aren’t you like five?” Jason murmured, as he double checked Tim for signs of anything serious. 

“I-I-I’m sorry,” Tim stuttered at him, “She just—she wouldn’t g-g-g-go away--”

“Hey. Don’t be fucking sorry,” Jason corrected, “I said that phone was for if you felt unsafe, right? I don’t give a fuck if it was Britney Spears making you uncomfortable, you can call me.”

“She kept touching me...” Tim murmured, eyes unable to meet Jason’s.

“Yeah,” Jason said, as he felt for Tim’s pulse, “Some people are assholes.”

Tim nodded, eyes brimming with tears now. He was quiet.

Jason was relieved to find that his heart rate, while fast, was not dangerously fast. The kid was shaking, pulling his arms back close to his body and refusing to look near Jason’s eyes.

“Is there anyone I should call? Like, dunno, your family?” Jason asked.

Tim’s head hung low. “...my dad’s on vacation with his new girlfriend. No one’s home.”

Jason wasn’t sure if Tim wasn’t mentioning Bruce for his sake or for another reason. He finally held back the groan and said, “Should I call Dick or something?”

He hated the idea. But he didn’t really have anywhere to take Tim to.

Tim looked at him in confusion, eyes bleary, before saying, “I...don’t you know?”

The thought struck Jason like a lightning bolt, and he said, “He’s not dead—right?”

Tim blinked fast. “No...I’m just not Robin anymore. And Dick’s not talking to...to Bruce. It’s my fault.”

The last bit was almost whispered out.

And Jason was angry again, knowing that Bruce had gotten a kid hurt like this, put him in harm’s way, and then fucking thrown him away like used garbage. In fact, his head was starting to hurt, vision seeming to glow red and maybe green at the corners.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, and in a moment of red-anger, he said, “Well, that’s fine, you’ll be my Robin now.”

But this was the wrong thing to say, he realized, as Tim flinched away, saying, “No! I’m not going to-to--”

He tried to reach out to Tim, trying hard to be gentle, as he said, “Hey, I’m sorry, I lost my head for a--”

“No! Don’t touch me!” Tim snapped at him, feebly pushing him away. He stumbled almost drunkenly several steps away.

“Tim. You can’t get yourself home in that condition—Listen, I’ll drop you off at home, and then leave you alone--” Jason started, a sort of _fuck I fucked up_ pounding in his head.

“Conner! _Conner!_ ” Tim called into the night.

And boom.

Superboy himself showed up.

“I didn’t touch him,” Jason found himself saying, the angry glare of a Kryptonian nothing to sneeze at.

Superboy touched down, saying, “This guy bothering you?”

But Tim’s head was hanging down again, an almost ashamed look, one that was looking to shield his feelings. “No. I just...need help getting home.”

And Jason could see it in Conner’s face—the confusion, the agony of _not knowing._

Tim hadn’t told his friends what had happened.

It wasn’t Jason’s place to tell fucking anyone. Hell, Tim had every fucking right to be furious with him and to keep it a secret. So he backed off. 

“If you need to call again, it’s fine,” he said, wanting to chase the loose ends of this story, of what Batman had done, of _everything_ , but knowing when it wasn’t his goddamn business. 

Tim gave a faint nod, not looking at him.

Then Superboy was lifting him, and Jason was headed back to his motorcycle.

He didn’t know that Tim would ever call him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I felt this made sense as a followup. Also, I seem to have caught something during the Easter weekend. Woohoo. :P


End file.
